BE NOTHING
by Chimeishou
Summary: " No. You don't get used to it... To relive again and again that precise moment... Caught in the memory's fragment, the spirit do not had the needed hindsight to distance itself from events ... Dreads are easier to control than past strokes. " Kin's past and more from her P.O.V. (My first english fanfiction you could help me with my mistakes, I don't have a beta-reader.)
1. Prophylactic prologue

« In the beginning I was nothing ... In the beginning it was good...

Be nothing only is possible in a manichean realm. However, the Manichean does not tolerate the nough. The manichean persists in the good and the bad constrasted in a clear-cut axe-blowed opinion. Could we define the naught ? If yes, how ?

Black, blue, red, wellow, white … I don't know ... surely : nothing.

In the water or the clay ? I do not feel any air ... Hot or cold ? Was my body heavy or light ? Dying or living ? Not fully the first yet but no more the second one neither. Full of ecstasy or full of agony ? None of them... Just nothing.

Then, I realise that I already had this feeling before... Yes ... Slightly before everything go wrong, I felt this great naught, have had the feeling to merge in it. Panic, fear, qualm, worry, or curiosity ?

I regain what seems consciousness …I feel ... I don't know what, but I feel. Yet, I feel too much to be nothing. Gradually, the absolute torpidity leaves space for the most total gravity.

I remember now ... Progressively ... Colors ... shapes ... images, abstracts ... Some memories of sensations, smells, peoples, places and facts. My village... My failure ... Konoha ... The errand …Orochimaru ... Edo tensei ...

My village !

Tree years that I have not seen it, but limpids reflections conceives themselves without my eyes. Without my eyes : because if I was opening them right now the picture of those air and water landscapes, timbered smells, until in the paddy fields where the wet and the soil meets and are made one, would disappear.

Inescapably, without thinking about, it disappears to leave space to a shapeless bulk of various wavelengths ; when my eyes seeks the very hazardous venture to decrypt the area, sensing a living being nearby ...

A voice with a winter aura, wicked but playful, arise in the meadow and bites my ear-drums like an icy wind :

 **« Huh, so, what do we have here ? Surprisingly, the weakest of the tree pawns had survived that lethal skill.**

 **Has Orochimaru-sama hidden things about you to me ? I understand a bit better why he asked me to brought him your 'corpse' now... »**

I recognize this voice... Orochimaru's assistant... Kabuto.

I hear spirits round whose are delighted to welcome me in their kingdom whilst the man with white hair and whose the smell is colloquially distasteful approach... He raises and puts me on his shoulder as if I was a rice bag.

No ! I don't want to go back there!

I would like to wrestle. My limbs don't match: are so heavy, so numb… I don't feel them.

I try to talk : nothing. I try to move : nothing. I try to breathe : nothing… ? Then, suddenly, a choc.

I cough and breathe in to the point to make my ribcage explode. Everything seems to get up and running, to begin with the pain feeling. A stupor's roaring due to nefarious throes chokes in my throat wich give way to grisly gargles.

My eyes moisten without my knowledge.

Finally, I am struggling.

His glasses fall in the undergrowth.

He stops and « thee » me, leering with a murderous eye my diminished perspective. He lets himself lands from branches and drops me carelessly on the ground. Obviously not quite concerned that I could be able to run away in my appalling state. And, if need be, wouldn't have any harm to catch me back.

I am crawling with difficulty. I try to stand up time to time. When I leave the benignant support of the three that had helped me to regain the standing position, my legs seems to liquefy under my weight. I persist, for his greatest entertainment, in my awful pang. After a while, he comes back to me. He should have found his glasses.

There is no one well-meaning soul in that forest to lend me gracefully its strength. Only ones ghosts present there are enemies victims from Konoha and are rather bitter to have lost their life. To help someone is the last of their desires –on contrary, they are jeering at me and enjoying my setbacks– and I am too weak to subject them to this fancy.

The Shinigami yet has given grant to let me live –thanks to shamanics links I sustain with the afterlife– but, I obviously have to let him the hardly total amount of my vital energy in exchange of that wish* …

Leaving me thus on the brink of death and in more than precarious conditions...

I am feeling like a wounded fledgling battling against a feline. The heart thumping so hard that it is threatening to stop due to the fear and its crazy crackle seems to consume the thin chakra layer that keeps me alive… But I can't afford the luxury to pretend to be dead. They wants me… even dead…

I feel him growing closer and at the moment, my vain attempt to avoid him, do not entertain him more than a bit… Like a cat, tired to play with its prey after few hours in the course of wich he weaken it, letting it think it could flee if it pushing on.

Just as his hands will grabs me again a kunai cuts through the air in his direction. He dodge it with one feline's spring, wich force him to move away from me. I analyse the shot's trajectory to establish its precise provenance and find the fleeting individual.

Who has been able to go unnoticed from sharp senses of that dreaded character?


	2. Premice of the precipice

A second white haired man appears. His looks is awkward : neither small, neither tall, hairs in a mess, middle-aged adult, one eye and the face covered of what seems a colar – or whatever – about under his only visible eye. I deduce by his kaki vest he is at least chunin level, but most certainly jônin if he was able to lure Kabuto until now.

" **Kakashi-san** " says my ravisher, in a tone he had borrowed to his master.

Seeing my salute –or at least, a respite time – in that second figure, I drag myself toward him.

" **I see that you are a competent child abductor …** " reply the new one - what might look like humor, but don't really make me laugh for the time being.

The glasses wearer do not answer, not quite amused.

Both men measure themselves … looking at each other … no moves. Status quo.

Eventually, I'm wary now, they seem to know each other. The one with tied hairs search a way that could allow him to save enough time to recover me and to sow his opponent … The Konoha's ninja lifts his hitai-ate and uncover his concealed eye. Wich has the result to put an end to this rumination's latency period.

At once, Kabuto looks away, openly ready to put his plan into execution. Suddenly, a new character show up and would soon cause sensation : she seems to know that Kakashi. Kabuto interrupt himself. She greets the masked man with a playful and wheedling grin with a sugary " sempai " then she turn serious and glare toward the second man and spit harshly : " Kabuto. You filthy Orochimaru's henchman, It seems I smelled you !

\- Anko. He wants the girl !

\- Huh ? Got it ! "

The nerd tries his luck despite the numerical inferiority. The so-called scarecrow interposes and the said Anko takes hold of me, clutching my jacket and lifting me up as easily as she would have of a ragdoll. She then invokes snakes. Seeing himself way too disadvantaged he leaves the area with a smoke projectile ...

Exhaustion seems to get the better of me. In the process, I lose my Oto's headband and consciousness once and for all.

All over again…

Nothing.


	3. Reminiscent remanence

Sun was setting on the rice field, the air in a soft mugginess ... A father and his daughter was ending up their work-day and was stretching themselves.

The man no more than thirty years old and the little girl not older than nine years old. The child ran toward her old man, jumping and pulling her feet out of the mud between each stride in a splurchs and schlack's cacophony caused by the slurry that engulf her barefeet. Despite exhaustion those loathsome sucking noises was amusing her.

"Daddy! I am done!" She cried as she can, while running with a steadyness her father couldn't muster anymore after a workday.

"It will be dark soon. Let's go home." He concluded, stretching and massaging his back.

Letting her catching him up, he quietly began to walk after darting toward her, amused to see that his offspring was still able to jump in puddles. He was heading for the storage area when he heard the big splatching sound of her falling down in the muddy water. He stopped himself then turned with a smile on his face, to gaze at her recovering from her fall, covered with dirt.

Nothing…

Seeing she was motionless, he ran the separating meters with long hurried strides.

"Kin!" He shouted.

He took her face out of the sludge, he cleared the muddy melt out of her face as he could. He tried to shake her up, but she was ragdoll-like. A bubble was formed from one nostril of her. At least she was still breathing, he thought to himself. He pinched the base of her nose and to the tip, pressing on to evacuate to the mud which could have been there and prevented her to breathe.

He put her on his shoulder and retraced his path to the shack where he let his working tools and get moving to their village… Should he bring her to shamans? They will probably know what to do… Even if he knew full well what does that was meaning for his eldest.

His great-uncle Kan had the reputation to be the worst shaman ever in terms of divination … But well … What if he was eventually right towards that child during his antenatal premonition? What if he wasn't at fault this time? … So, it would be the same then for the other portions of its prediction. He was thinking with a bit of bitterness. Then the man looked up to his unconscious daughter now laying in his arms and thought back to her birth:

NOTHING

It was raining. It was the end of the night. Even if there is nothing easy in giving birth, it had been long and tedious for the young mother.

Eventually, the sun was piercing through the horizon and clouds, the scene was bathed in the sunrise light… The rain had not ceased yet, but each tear of the sky looked like molten gold's drops.

" It's a girl" confirmed the old woman who held the midwife's role.

"She …She isn't crying?" Said the newly father, worried. "Is that normal?"

"It could happen." Comforted the Elder, rubbing the baby's back.

"Can I … hold her?" Panted the mother.

"You still need to evacuate the envelop Moe."

The young woman pushed and expelled the placenta and then drowsy from tiredness, she stretched forth her hands whereas one of the shamans – members of her family – gave her the newborn. She contemplated and drew it against her breasts. She noticed the golden daylight which was staining them beautifully, then the gold rain and the heavenly morning landscape.

"Miu or Asa, would suits you right, my sweet." She whispered, knowing nonetheless that the name was the choice of the shaman's cast, as it was the custom.

"Welcome into this plane of existence, Kin." The Tamashi's announced in unison.

"Kin… Kin…That sounds … like two weapons banging together… She lamented, bitterly reminding herself about the prophecy.

"Don't be so pessimistic, look at her, our daughter … it's as if she is wearing a halo of light. Kin could also mean gold, so, it suits her just fine." The spouse comforted; kissing his wife on her forehead.

"You have done a good job Moe, that's a beautiful child." The advanced age woman added.

"Thanks, Elder Han."

"We are leaving. The young mother needs rest."

What was said was made.

NOTHING

When the father arrived to the village, he aimed right to the spirit's shed. He saw Kan which seemed to wait for him in front of his hut.

"Aoi, I was waiting for you… he indeed underlined.

"Kin lost consciousness in the paddy fields, he told.

"Go in. He took the girl off of her parent's arms that were exhausted from his labor and said: Take rest.

"How did you know that I was coming? He asked taking place on the groundsheet.

"Han's life went out. Less than an hour ago, during her meditation. Jin is preparing everything for the wake.

"Is it … linked … to Kin?

"It was ineludible. She do, knew it as well. Shikata ga nai.

The parent looked at the man who tended to have more and greyer hairs, setting down the little girl on the couch, thinking how morbid was the fact the woman that happened to die was the one to help deliver the baby. I was feeling awkward… but he couldn't know how weird it could have been for her. To know that little girl is her replacement.

"Don't make that face, Aoi. She is gone peacefully, to the respectable age of ninety nine years … there's nothing to be sad of.

"When will she wake-up ? The said Aoi inquired, redirecting his gaze and emotion on his child.

"Only sure thing. Not before the end of rituals.

The old man watched the long adorned black haired man that was in the process of cooking up something with a wooden mortar and a pestle.

"As it may not happen too ... Because she will stray in the arupaloka during a few moments, it's possible that she never find the way out … If she found the way. She'll began the samsara, when Han will have finished her highlight meditation* … these things which she must overcome could invalidate my prediction ; she would not be the first in this case.

"And if … Kin die. Will it … the father commented, a bit discomforted by his own thoughts … spare the clan from his dreadful fate?

The shaman added another component some dried leaves, grinded and kneaded them with the rest of his preparation. He then bit few small brown seeds and chewed it awhile, during the grinding process. A few minutes later, he spat his mouth content in the mortar and melted the whole thing with his index finger until the texture was the one of a liquid pastry, then neared the motionless child.

"Perhaps… but perhaps not. The shaman responded eventually.

He began to talk in an unknown to the father dialect: an incantation. He put his finger on her sage-femme eyelids retracing her eyelashes, and continued until he reaches her temple. He ended up his incantation and traced a line with the brownish concoction from the philtrum to the chin.

The tall, skinny, fair skinned, with black straight long hairs, tied low in the neck, the face thin stoic and cold, man called Jin, pass down in the room ; he glanced to the child then gave a recognition nod and a small comforting smile to their parent.

"There's nothing more to do… We shall go announce the new in the common home." The last man stated, matter-of-factly, heading towards the exit.


End file.
